Tallin Windsor, 18.
District 11 Male.


Tallin had never been good at relaxing. But curled in the corner of the couch in the Five apartment, he couldn't help but feel the very slightest bit of comfort.

He knew it wouldn't last. Of course it wouldn't.

"Pluto, c'mon, it's about to start!" Ifer called over her shoulder into the other room.

"I'll be there in a sec!" Pluto replied, heavy footsteps following as he came into the room. "I've got popcorn, if anybody wants some."

"Yeah, sure," Ifer replied. Pluto came around the corner, nearly tripping over the coffee table as he sank into the couch between Tallin and Ifer.

"I'll take some popcorn, since you owe me," Revan said. Tallin nearly jumped out of his skin at the appearance of the man; he had a habit of sneaking up on them, and it certainly wasn't something Tallin enjoyed.

"Where- how did you hear that?" Pluto asked, holding the bowl up to Revan as the mentor perched on the back of the couch.

"Your voice carries," Revan replied simply with a shrug, taking a handful of popcorn. Tallin and Ifer nodded. It was never hard to find Pluto, which was somewhat comforting to Tallin. It'd be easy to track his ally down in the bloodbath, when the time came, something he'd worried about before realizing just how hard it was to escape Pluto.

"Shh, it's starting," Ifer said, the TV screen before them flashing away from whatever interview they had playing prior - Tallin thought it might've been with one of the Gamemakers, but he hadn't been paying enough attention - to the faces of the Master of Ceremonies, Quill Breckenridge, and his announcing partner, Onyx Wainwright.

"Good evening, Panem! We welcome you to this very special event, the reveal of the training scores and predicted placements for the 211th Hunger Games!" Quill exclaimed, a large grin spreading across his face. "You all, of course, know me, Quill Breckenridge. I am joined tonight by the very lovely Onyx Wainwright, official announcer of these Games."

"Thank you for having me, Quill! This is such a fascinating lineup of tributes, so why don't we get right into it?" Onyx replied, her dark coloured eyes gleaming beneath the harsh studio lights.

"I think I like that idea very much, yes. Starting us out is District One. A very attractive pair of tributes they've produced this year, don't you agree?"

"Yes, I do! Let's get right into it with Mystic Hannemann, who scored a ten. Her predicted placement is fifth," Onyx read.

"Next up, with a predicted placement of second, is Chiffon Shivaan, who earned a score of eleven!"

"That doesn't surprise me," Revan remarked from the back of the couch. He was voicing what seemed to be everyone's thoughts, as Careers usually topped the rankings with ease.

"Quite the wonderful showing from District One. I'd keep my eye on that Chiffon kid if I were you," Quill laughed, winking to Onyx.

"That's for sure! An eleven is an amazing score," Onyx agreed. "Now, onto District Two: Reign Legatus and Claudia Bartoszek,"

"A fascinating pair as well. It seems our beloved District Two is finally getting back on their feet!" Quill agreed.

"I can only hope so! Now, Miss Bartoszek scored an eight, with a predicted placement of seventh!"

"And… Is this right? Could this be?" Quill exclaimed. "Reign Legatus somehow scored a twelve with a predicted placement of first!"

A loud thud resounded through the room. Tallin whipped his head around to find that Revan was no longer on the back of the couch.

"Are you okay?" Pluto asked, peering down to the floor.

"Fine, I'm fine, just surprised, that's all," a voice grumbled from the floor. "Never say a word of this to anybody."

"A twelve… that's a first, isn't it?" Ifer asked as Revan pulled himself over the back of the couch, landing square between Ifer and Pluto.

"It is, yes," Revan confirmed.

"I wonder what he did," Pluto pondered. "I mean, it must've been impressive."

"We'll never know," Revan shrugged. "You're not really supposed to tell anyone outside your District what you do for your private session."

Pluto nodded, turning his attention back to the TV, as did Tallin. It appeared the pair on their screen had been discussing the twelve, just now getting back onto the track of revealing the scores.

"Okay, let's get moving onto Three now," Quill smiled, Onyx nodding in agreement.

"Starting with Miss M'Pingo Aparra, scoring a six, with a predicted placement of eleventh!" Onyx exclaimed.

"And Cecil Peacemaker with a predicted placement of eighth and a score of seven!"

"A wonderful showing from Three! In fact, these two scored the highest out of Three in at least a decade!" Quill nodded. "Now, we're going to take a quick commercial break. We'll be back in just a few minutes with the next round of scores!"

"Ooh, I'll get more popcorn!" Pluto grinned, holding the now empty bowl of popcorn.

"Good, cause I didn't get any," Tallin snorted, watching Pluto hurry away to the kitchen.

Tallin had hoped that, as the night went on, he'd be able to calm his nerves, even as the time to reveal his score approached. And yet, the distinct feeling of dread never left Tallin. While it might just be a number, he wasn't ready to face what power his score may hold over his life and death.

But would he ever be ready?


Olive Sidney, 15.
District 11 Female.


Olive yawned, stretching out across the couch she had all to herself. It was getting late and these commercials seemed to be stretching on for ages. She didn't like having to wait so long between each section of scores, it felt like she'd be old and grey by the time they got to Eleven.

Finally, the commercials ended and the faces of Onyx and Quill reappeared. "Ooh, you're coming up soon, Terra!" Olive grinned at her ally, who sat in a nearby chair, curled up under a blanket. She seemingly enjoyed spending time in the Eleven apartment, always avoiding being on the Five floor when she could. Olive certainly didn't mind - it gave her company, so why would she complain?

"I guess, yeah," Terra sighed.

"Hey, you're gonna be fine! You're gonna fly right under everyone's radar, I just know it!" Olive grinned. Terra nodded her head as the announcers began speaking again.

"Alright, and we're back after that quick break. We're going to continue on now with District Four, our beloved Oceanside District!" Quill smiled.

"That's right, starting with Tarni Villemont. Ms Villemont came in with a predicted placement of third and a score of eleven!" Onyx replied.

"Mm, and her District partner, Dean Karafanda received a score of ten and a predicted placement of fourth!" Quill beamed. "A strong showing from Four this year!"

"Yes indeed! Now, we're getting onto some of the larger, urban Districts, with District Five up next."

"It's you!" Olive exclaimed, turning to Terra who was still curled up on the chair, her dark eyes twinkling as she watched the screen intently.

"Starting with the lovely Terra Kiana Quinones who scored a three, and has a predicted placement of twenty third!"

"Hey, look! It really could be worse!" Olive laughed, enthused by the fact she'd been right. Terra had been convinced she'd get the lowest predicted placement, and Olive was right about it.

"Second last… it could be, I suppose," Terra nodded, hiding a smile behind the blanket wrapped around her. Olive was glad that the girl had finally cracked a smile. It always seemed like she was no more than a few seconds away from breaking down, and yet here she was, smiling - or at least sort of smiling.

"And next we have her partner, Pluto Valence, coming in with a score of six and a predicted placement of ninth! Curious - he's not letting that missing arm slow him down, is he?" Quill continued.

"Certainly not! I think he'll be another one to keep an eye on; after all everybody loves an underdog story, right?" Onyx replied, nodding.

"They're one of my personal favourites." Quill agreed. "Can you believe we're nearly halfway done? Let's move on to our next District, District Six!"

"Yes, our wonderful transportation District, they're always a wild card," Onyx replied, nodding along. "With a score of five, the stunningly beautiful Ms. Verity Blanche is predicted to place fifteenth!"

"Her District partner, Diesel Malstrom, who seemingly hasn't performed quite as well as his counterpart. He comes in with a training score of three and a predicted placement of twentieth."

"Ooh, that's quite the gap between the two," Onyx said, cringing visibly.

"It is, so I'm curious to see more of them. Also, did you notice how much metal seems to be sticking out of that kid's face?" Quill laughed. Indeed, Diesel's face was decorated with all sorts of piercings; Olive could make out many different bits of metal, nails and fishhooks that definitely shouldn't have been there just from his picture.

"I wonder how he got them all. You should ask him in his interview tomorrow."

"I think I will, Onyx," Quill laughed. "Now we're going to cut away for a bit of a break, but we'll be back in just a few minutes with the scores and predicted placements for Seven through Nine."

Despite knowing she would be up sooner rather than later, despite the looming threat of the games to come, Olive still couldn't help but feel overjoyed for her ally.

For her friend.


Nugua Meng, 17.
District 9 Female.


Nugua had just finished scribbling the last few words into her notebook about the Sixes when the screen flashed back to the interview room. The Sixes were a curious couple to Nugua. They obviously knew and cared for each other a great deal - likely a couple, or on their way to becoming one - but they seemed entirely blind to what was to come. If they were just making the most of their time together, Nugua didn't blame them. If she had somebody that important to her here, she'd be doing the same. But she didn't and she was more than glad for that.

After all, only one of them could survive the Games.

"Welcome back from that short commercial break! Now, let's crack on with District Seven," Onyx grinned, her shiny teeth glinting in the bright studio lights.

"Yes, District Seven, always wildcards. The female tribute is Morrigan Meadowlark, scoring an eight with a predicted score of… sixth!"

Nugua squinted at the TV, then scanned over her notes about the girl. There was nothing too noticeable, save for the fact she'd spent most of her time either alone or with the boy from Twelve. Given that she managed to beat out one of the Careers, she must've been stronger than Nugua anticipated. "That's interesting," Nugua vocalized, as she scribbled the score and placement down.

"What is?" Alfie replied, leaning over the back of the couch next to her. He'd been pacing back and forth behind her most of the evening; while most people might find that annoying, she didn't mind so much. She understood that he was just nervous, even though she didn't put much stock into the scores. They didn't mean all that much, after all, nor did the predicted placements. Without fail, every year the Careers would be projected to place highest, and yet the outer Districts still "upset" those projections. It wasn't a consistent pattern, but the Careers certainly weren't as good as they made themselves out to be.

Nugua certainly wasn't the strongest, but she could be the smartest, and that would win her the Games if she played her moves right.

"Well, she's not a Career. If she was that talented and didn't want to be targeted by the Careers then she should've sabotaged her own session. But, since the Careers are so…" Nugua trailed off, searching for the right word. "Fractured, I suppose, they'll probably be too occupied with each other to pay any attention to her. She's smarter than I thought she was."

"Or, she just didn't realize she could self sabotage," Alfie pointed out.

"Or that, yes. Either way, we're avoiding her," Nugua asserted as the next tribute came up on the screen.

"Her district partner, Lane Freely, scored a six, and earned a predicted placement of ninth!"

"Not bad," Alfie said. "He's the tall one, right?"

"He is, yeah. No allies either," Nugua confirmed.

"Next up, it's District Eight! Could you have guessed?" Quill said, clapping his hands. "District Eight is particularly interesting to me this year; do you know why, Onyx?"

"I believe so, yes, Ifer Aigulle is the daughter of a famous fashion designer from Eight, no?"

"You would be correct, she's the daughter of Chardae! And speaking of Ms. Ifer, she's predicted to place fourteenth, with a score of five!"

Nugua scribbled this down as the announcers continued chatting about the girl's mother. It'd likely give the girl and her allies a leg up when it came to sponsors, although Nugua couldn't be sure.

"And her partner, Calvin Khadkhodaian, scored a four, landing him a predicted placement of twenty second."

Nugua didn't have much written down about Calvin. The biggest thing was that he'd taken up the Ten boy in an alliance, a great decision for Calvin as he was one of the younger kids in the tribute lineup and Ten was one of the oldest.

"Oh, wonderful, it's us next," Alfie sighed from his position leaning over the back of the couch.

"Mm, it is," Nugua nodded. "Nervous?"

"No," Alfie replied, his voice shaking ever so slightly. Nugua knew he was lying but she didn't press. Why would she? After all, they were allies. Besides, it was perfectly normal to be nervous for these sorts of things, even if in the end they didn't mean anything.

"Now for District Nine, starting with the lovely Nugua Meng, with a predicted placement of thirteenth and a score of five."

"Her partner, Alfalfa Fielder, comes in with a score of four and a predicted placement of sixteenth!"

Alfie let out a sigh next to her as their faces and scores flashed across the screen. Nugua wasn't surprised by either; while they were smart, neither of them were the strongest physically, and that was most of what the private sessions were based on.

But that was fine with Nugua. Let the others underestimate her and Alfie because of their low scores. After all, in the Arena, the difference between fighting for your life and dying could be how she used her words, not her fists.

And Nugua Meng didn't plan on going down any time soon.


Aithne Hastings, 17.
District 12 Female.


Aithne rubbed her eyes, yawning as she watched the screen. The Capitol seemed to enjoy milking the reveals for all they were worth, taking what seemed like an eternity just to get to District Nine, which meant it'd be even longer before they got to Aithne's district. She wanted to think that she wouldn't normally mind, but really, despite the presence of her allies, the whole ordeal was just mind numbing and boring.

"Welcome back to our final round of scores!" Quill exclaimed, as the TV cut back into the program.

"Let's not waste any time. We start this final round off with District Ten. Bo Peep Durlech scored a four, with a predicted placement of eighteenth!" Onyx replied. Aithne turned to look at Bo, who didn't look the most impressed with the showing.

"Mm, yes, and her partner, Carter Feldman scored a six, with a predicted placement of twelvth!"

"I should've done better than him, at least," Bo grumbled from her spot.

"Just be grateful you weren't last," Ping replied, throwing a piece of popcorn at the girl's head.

"I suppose," Bo rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the screen.

"A solid showing from District Ten! And now, on to District Eleven, our second-to-last District of the night. First, Ms. Olive Sidney, coming in with a predicted placement of twenty fourth and a score of two."

"And her partner, Tallin Windsor, scored a four, garnering a predicted placement of seventeenth!"

Aithne chuckled as Bo curled her lip at the television, looking even more annoyed than before. "That kid really beat me out?" Bo grumbled.

"I guess you just gotta get better," Aithne laughed. Bo shot her a dirty look.

"Shh, Twelve is up," Ping said, hushing them.

"And now for our final District, Twelve. The wonderful Aithne Hastings scored a four, with a predicted placement of nineteenth!"

"Who's needin' to get better now, hmm?" Bo snickered as Aithen's own face flashed across the screen.

"Shush it," Aithne growled, as the final tribute came on screen- Jasper.

"And, finally, last but not least, Jasper McCoy, with a score of three, and a predicted placement of twenty-first!"

Aithne wasn't surprised by how low Jasper scored. He seemed smart enough, but physically, he couldn't compare to the others. She still wished he'd allied with her; instead, he'd run off and managed to get himself a powerful ally in the Seven girl, while Aithne was stuck with Ping and Bo. Admittedly, she didn't mind her allies much, but she wouldn't exactly want either of them on her side in a fight.

"That's all for tonight folks, we'll see you tomorrow night with the tribute interviews!" Quill exclaimed, waving at the camera enthusiastically. Onyx did the same next to him as the screen faded to black.

"Well that wasn't such a bad showing," Ping remarked, switching the TV off and tossing the remote down. "We could've done much worse."

"We also could've done much better. What difference does it make?" Bo growled, pushing herself to her feet. "I'm going for a walk, I'll see y'all later." Bo stalked out of the apartment, Aithne listening as her footsteps receded, as she turned to Ping.

"We'll be alright, right?" Aithne asked with a sigh.

"I don't know. I hope we will but… Nobody can guarantee anything," Ping shrugged.

Her ally was right. Nobody could guarantee anything. The only one who could ensure Aithne's safety was Aithne herself.


Omega Riley, 28.
Victor of the 200th Hunger Games.


"Riley. Riley, c'mon, wake up," a voice called, somebody shaking Omega by the shoulder. Peeling his eyes open, Omega raised his head, squinting at whoever was doing the shaking.

"What the fuck do you want?" Omega muttered, pushing Sarmiento Polar Torres's hand off.

"Well, I don't want anything exactly," Sarmiento replied, sliding into the seat across the table from him. "But I do have something I think you might be interested in seeing."

"Huh?"

"It has to do with the files."

Omega quickly straightened up, directing his full attention towards Sarmiento. He'd asked Northcroft to give him as many files on Two and the virus as he could get his hands on, and he'd received a wealth of information from the man in the form of stacks of papers still strewn across his desk. Omega had an understanding of what all had happened, but as he hadn't been there firsthand, there was so much more he had yet to discover. He was certain there were plenty of secrets about his home that he still had to unearth.

If only he could've done more. If only he could've been better for the District that had given so much.

"You've been looking through them too?"

"I have, that's right," Sarmiento confirmed. "It was more for research than anything, so I can piece everything together for my journalism piece."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Omega nodded, stretching his arms far above his head. Evidently, he'd fallen asleep at the desk in the office of the Two apartment. He hadn't gotten much sleep even before they'd left for the Capitol, and now he found himself resting less and less, catching a fleeting moment of sleep wherever and whenever he could. But it was never enough. There was always something to do, somewhere to be, a camera being pushed in front of him. Now with the added pressure of knowing what Snow had done, how badly she'd ruined his home, Omega was near cracking.

But it'd all be over soon enough. That's what he told himself at least.

"So, I was going through the records Northcroft got me on-"

"Hold on, maybe we should take this on a walk," Omega cautioned, holding up a hand. Sarmiento's eyes went wide as he looked around the room, then responded with a quick nod, strands of unruly purple hair falling into his eyes.

"To the roof, then?"

"That'll do, yes," Omega nodded, pushing his chair back as he stood. Northcroft had told him that none of their personal quarters were bugged, including the office, but Omega still didn't trust it. Even though they'd been preparing to dispose of Snow, she was still dangerous until the minute she was put six feet under the ground, and that wasn't even a testament to how powerful Northcroft very well could become. Caution was the only option in Omega's mind. Better safe than sorry.

Better safe than dead.

Omega and Sarmiento made their way to the bank of elevators, passing through the entirely empty and still Two apartment. The sun had mostly set, the last few rays of yellow-orange light peeking through the windows, bathing the monotonous grey apartment in shades of crimson and gold. He'd sat down sometime in the afternoon to do some sponsor negotiations, and given that the sun was setting, Omega must've been out for a few hours at the very least.

"Do you know what time it is?" Omega asked, turning to Sarmiento as they stepped onto the elevator.

"Umm…" Sarmiento trailed off, checking the watch on his wrist. "Around eight thirty?"

"What?!" Omega exclaimed. "It's that late?"

"Uh, yeah. Score reveals were like an hour or two ago."

"They were? I must've missed them."

"Mm, I guess so. Your kid did pretty good for himself," Sarmiento snorted. "Chiffon wasn't happy about it."

"What'd he get?" Omega asked, rubbing his eyes. It'd entirely slipped his mind that the scores and predicted placements were coming out that night. Time had been passing so oddly and Omega could barely juggle everything he already had going on.

"A twelve," Sarmiento sighed. "Predicted placement first."

"A twelve?!" Omega cried, repeating Sarmiento. Nobody had ever gotten a twelve; elevens, sure, but twelves were unheard of. This only confirmed Omega's fear: Snow was putting a target on Reign's back, and there was nothing Omega could do about it.

He'd failed another tribute, another kid who trusted him to help them. Everywhere he went, he only brought the worst to those around him. Omega couldn't help them, couldn't even help himself.

Omega was no mentor.

"I know. I have… thoughts about it that I'll share in a moment," Sarmiento said.

After a few seconds, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. A gust of wind barrelled through the small space, blowing hair into Omega's eyes as the two Victors stepped out onto the roof of the training building. "It's cold up here, huh?" Sarmiento shivered, pulling his jacket around him tighter. "'It never gets like this back home."

"Well, we are up pretty high," Omega replied, his unzipped jacket flapping around him as the pair took a seat on one of the benches lining the edge of the rooftop. It was completely deserted, save for them, which Omega was hoping for. He didn't want anybody to overhear them. "So, about what you found?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I was going through the files on the virus, right? And remember how Northcroft told us about the human experiments they were doing in Three? I was wondering where exactly they got the people from, since I wanted to see if I could track down their families and at least bring them some closure."

"Right, that's a good idea," Omega nodded, following along.

"So, I managed to find the file that had the patients in it, or at least some of them. It turned out most of them were kids, first of all, and second of all, not from Three to begin with. They put out ads for kids to volunteer, with the promise of money for them and their families, and plenty of them did. There were a few from every District, which complicates the process of finding their families, but that's besides the point." Sarmiento continued, rambling.

"They were kids? They experimented on… kids?" Omega gasped. He'd known they'd done experiments on people, but doing it on kids was worse. Then again, he didn't know what he expected from the Capitol that sent twenty three kids to their deaths every year.

"Mhm, they sure did. I don't exactly know why, but my best guess is that they'd be the easiest disappearances to cover up." Sarmiento shrugged. "It might be something else, but who knows?."

"Certainly not me."

"Anyway, I think you should look at this."

Sarmiento, hands trembling, pulled a file out from inside his jacket and handed it to Omega. Carefully, Omega opened the file and began to thumb through its contents: dozens and dozens of headshots. Stapled to the back of each one was a report on the child, their name and District printed in big black letters. And every single report was stamped with the word "DEAD" in large, red letters.

Until, that was, Omega got to the final headshot: a picture of a young, dark-skinned girl with dark eyes and close shaven hair.

"Does she look familiar to you?" Sarmiento asked, pointing to the girl.

"I guess… I think so?" Omega asked. "Who is it?"

"Her name is M'Pingo Apara, and she was from District Eleven. She volunteered for the Games this year, out of Three," Sarmiento replied. "It looks like she was the true source of the virus, but after she went to Two, she went missing."

"Missing? They lost her? Did she escape, or…?" Omega asked.

"I don't know, but she's here in the Capitol, and just like your kid, they're gonna be out to kill her," Sarmiento said. "They can't let her live; that's far too dangerous."

Omega nodded. It was the same idea as with Reign: if they let him live, he'd be too big a threat and thus they had to get rid of him under the premise of the Games. Even if that turned him to a martyr, he'd be just that, a martyr and nothing more.

"So what do you want me to do about this, Sarmiento?" Omega questioned. "I mean, I appreciate you telling me, but… what can I possibly do?"

Sarmiento paused for a moment. "Well," he began slowly, as though processing a thought out loud, "I think that girl knows a lot. A lot more than we know, or even Northcroft knows. I bet she's our missing piece in all of this."

"I understand that, but they're going to kill her," Omega sighed, shaking his head.

"Yeah but what if they didn't kill her?" Sarmiento exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Or, what if we got to her before they could kill her? She's too potentially valuable to just let her die."

"Get to her first? What do you mean by…" he trailed off, staring at the man quickly unraveling in front of him, running his hands through his hair as he shared his racing thoughts aloud. Omega watched nervously as Sarmiento muttered to himself for a few moments, catching nothing more than a few words here and there.

"Aha! I've got it. Let's pull her out of the arena!" Sarmiento exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air as he spoke his brain piecing everything together right before Omega's eyes.

Omega blinked. What Sarmiento was proposing seemed completely and utterly insane, but the other man seemed determined to get what he wanted. "And how do you suggest we do that?" he responded, putting his own head in his hands.

Sarmi stopped moving. "That's a good question." Sarmiento stood up and began pacing back and forth, putting pieces together in his head. "Well, we'd need allies, right?" Sarmiento asked himself. "Who could we possibly use to our advantage here?"

Omega sat back and let Sarmiento keep thinking, but it was only a few minutes until the other man started snapping his fingers excitedly. "What?" Omega asked.

"Well, Northcroft! He's already helping us, right? I mean, if anybody could help us pull something like this off, it'd be him!" Sarmiento exclaimed, continuing to snap his fingers as he spoke. "And- oh and your brother, right? He'd probably have some contacts, or even some ideas about it, he's done plenty of- pardon me, illegal stuff"

Omega sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "So… you want me to help convince Northcroft and my brother to help us with this insane, half baked plan of yours?"

"Exactly! Yes!" Sarmiento cried, now standing still in front of Omega.

Omega sighed again. It was a half decent idea, he'd give Sarmiento credit for that, but Omega didn't know if he could truly throw his support behind it. Why risk exposing his and Northcroft's other plans to Snow if there was no guarantee the girl knew anything, or that she'd be helpful in any way? And that wasn't even considering the fact they'd have to get Northcroft on board in the first place, something Omega figured would be a task far larger than Sarmiento thought it'd be.

But as Omega paused for a moment, another thought entered his head. A thought of a woman whose daughter he'd killed in his Games, but who still took him under her wing. Omega would forever be grateful for Lavina Legatus's support; he owed her his life, after all. Now that she'd passed from the virus, the least he could do was look out for her son the way she'd looked out for him.

He didn't know if Sarmiento's plan would work. But he owed it to the Legatuses to try.

"Do you think… Do you think we could maybe apply this to two kids, rather than just the one?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"What if we got Reign out too?" Omega asked. "I think he could be…equally as helpful, if not more so."

"Helpful?"

"Well, he practically saved Two from the virus he took over the Tombs forcing the Capitol into doing his bidding. But the Capitol locked down anything he did there, which means nobody knows about it." Omega sighed. "And who better to hear it from than the man himself."

"Oh. Oh I see," Sarmiento blinked a few times, his eyes widening. "Yes, of course, I don't see why we couldn't pitch it."

"I'll see about setting up a meeting with Northcroft, then." Omega smiled wryly. "Would you mind if I held onto that file?"

"Of course, yeah." Sarmiento handed the file back, a tired smile of his own crossing his face. "I'll see you later."

And with that, Sarmiento left, the distant sound of footsteps carried away by the wind.

Omega Riley would make it up to Lavina, even now that she was gone. He couldn't afford not to.